Walking Among The Red Polls

While the Red Poll girls are not cuddly like the horses (except perhaps for Jasmine), they are docile and trusting. They have become accustomed to my walking around them and don't seem to mind at all. One day I saw little Rocket lying in the crowd and thought he might be dead!:

 I walked right up to him and saw no movement, my worst fears growing with each step I took:

 But of course he was just napping, and looked up curiously when I got right next to him:

We've had a series of snowstorms, followed my snow melts, followed by more snow. The cattle really get happy and excited when we have a nice day and they can get themselves out onto dry grass:

 Scarlett and her boy, Rocket, took a walk together one pleasant day:

 And then Rocket began romping:

 He ran circles around me and his fat aunties:

The weather became nice enough that I moved the bale feeder across the drainage ditch and away from the east wall of the barn. We've had cold, windy days since then but the winds have been from the north, so the barn would have offered no protection anyway:

 Jasmine seldom comes into the barn for grain but I want her to have the extra nutrition so I carry a bowl out to her. She's trained me to be her waiter but I don't get any tip:

 The girls seem to be growing ravenous, eating an entire bale of hay every two days. I hope that is because they are all pregnant. I'll find out in April and May:

 I try to lock the horses in the barn when I bring out a new hay bale because they think it's fun to run out the open gate and also get behind the tractor (which is dangerous). The cows have enough sense to stay out of the way and inside the fence:

 Little Rocket has been eating hay (and sometimes grain) since he was two weeks old. He's growing at an astounding rate:

Around The Farm In Early Spring

We had some snow-free weather, a great joy except that I knew I'd have to get out and clean up the dog yard. I don't look forward to that job:

 The white fantail pigeons seemed ready to nest, and I knew they'd begin if I brought them in some hay. I delayed doing so, though, lest they hatch babies too early and then lose them in a cold snap:

 Quite a few pairs have chosen nests, though some prefer to nest on the floor:

 The little hens got out only once, the day I cleaned their room inside the barn:

 But once their room was clean, they went back indoors where they are safe from foxes:

 They seem happy and comfortable in their room. For awhile I let them mingle with the pigeons - until I discovered they were eating the pigeons' eggs:

 I continued to keep the hay bale feeder on the east side of the barn, where it was protected from harsh west winds:

 And sometimes I moved the bale feeder away from the last of the bale, enabling the herd to more easily get to it. They also get to use it to sleep on, though it makes an awful mess:

 Our first big thaw brought both cattle and horses out to explore the pasture, long buried in snow:

 The cows can't find anything to eat there, but the horses, with top and bottom teeth in the front of their mouth, found lots to eat:

 And one day I rolled the bale feeder across the drainage ditch to the exposed part of the pasture. I dropped in a new hay bale, then used the spear to split off the frozen top. Everyone was happy:

And little Rocket walked over to stare at me again. He still has not figured out what kind of strange animal I am:

Melee In The Pasture!

It all began quite peacefully one morning. We'd had a sudden thaw and it felt like springtime outside. Remy and Blue were eating hay indoors. I gave them each their half cup of grain in their stalls:

 The cows, however, did not come when I rang the bell and I went outside to catch their attention:

 Only one cow came into the barn, so I let her have her grain and was putting the other bowls away for the next day when the rest of the herd began to show up. The weather was so nice that I decided to carry the bowls out to them. The horses were out of their stalls by this time, so they considered it a challenge to steal whatever grain they could get their lips on:
 

 Soon the other cows began pushing each other and trying to steal grain:

 And all six 1500 pound cows began frolicking, kicking up their heels and twisting in mid-air like silly calves. They were running in ways I would never have considered possible for such fatsos:

 The horses are big fans of rowdy fun (especially Remy), so they too began to run, jump and kick:

 Pretty soon it was a full-on, springtime melee and I had to keep away from giant beasts running and kicking:

 Little Rocket had never seen his mother and aunts act that way, so he joined in the fun by running in giant circles:

 Things would calm down for a moment and then begin again:

 Remy became so wildly excited that at one point he wheeled around and put his back to me in order to kick me. I hollered loudly at him and he ran away, but then grabbed a food bowl and took off with it, hoping I'd chase him:

 Little Rocket was beside himself with joy, running and leaping. As for me, I just wanted to snap some pictures and keep from getting hurt. It was a morning to remember, a foretaste of spring fever:

Seen Through The Barn Door

I'd given the horses and cows their morning grain, but had a bowl left over and couldn't figure out who I'd missed. Besides, little Rocket might eat some if I carried out a bowl. I set the grain on the ground just outside the barn door and Rocket walked right up to it. I backed off and got my camera ready:

 I figured I'd take a number of shots and then choose the best one, but when I looked them over, I decided to keep a series of them because they told a story:

 Big, fat Gracie was standing next to Rocket. You can tell it's her by the two white patches on her side. Thinking they might be ringworm, I began treating them with Tinactin athlete's foot powder spray which leaves white spots. Her appetite undimmed as ever, Gracie decided to push the little squirt out of the way:


And then she finished his grain:

 Did little Rocket bawl or get angry? No, he nuzzled her sweetly as if to say, "I love you, auntie Gracie:

 And then he entered the barn:

 When he saw Remy (the mini horse) inside the barn, he changed his mind and went back outside and stood with his aunt, Amy. Scarlett, his mother, was just crossing the slippery ice in the drainage ditch to get to some waste hay:

 I followed Rocket outside to take more photos. He hasn't trusted me since he got tackled, tattooed and ear tagged (who could blame him?), but he's beginning to notice that I bring hay and grain to the herd, and that none of the other animals are afraid of me:

 Now, he regards me with curiosity, probably thinking that I'm the strangest looking cow he's ever seen:

Once the grain was gone, they all collected back on the east side of the barn, where there was abundant hay and respite from the cold wind:

Snapshots From Around The Farm

It's been a cold and snowy February, but the herd has weathered it all without seeming to mind at all. Little Rocket (that's him on the right, just behind Blue) is not so little anymore. He's growing at an astounding speed, eating hay and grain in addition to draining his mother's exceedingly large milk supply:

I've had to use the tractor bucket to remove snow many times. I keep hoping each time is the last, but of course it hasn't been:

Home Sweet Home, or perhaps I should say "Home Snowy Home:"

I keep treating Gracie's two bare spots but they don't seem to be improving. On the plus side, they don't seem to be spreading either:

The fantail pigeons are looking healthy and happy:

Many of them appear to be ready to nest, and I suppose they will do so as soon as it warms up:

Despite their beauty, they are still pigeons and leave piles of poop everywhere. In fact, their nests are fashioned out of poop:

But they are peaceful and lovely birds, a joy to have around:

The bantam hens are a bit cramped in their room, but I don't dare let them out because of our large and voracious fox population:

I have four Easter Egger bantams and seven Barred Rock bantams:

They too are a pleasure to have, though they too poop an awful lot:

The wind often blows snow through the cracks around doors and in the siding, which means I often see animal tracks inside the barn. One or more foxes hunts inside the barn each night, I often see mouse tracks - and this time, I saw new tracks. They were bigger than a mouse, but smaller than a rabbit. I suspect they may have been from a Least Weasel, hunting for mice in the barn. Of course the fox would probably eat the weasel if they met: